


The Project

by A_memory_box24



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Boarding School, Class Issues, First Love, Hate to Love, High School Drama, M/M, Private School, but not as much as On Hiatus, student life, teenage angst, teenage love story, this is going to hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29460000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_memory_box24/pseuds/A_memory_box24
Summary: Hanbin, School Captain of an elite private boys school in Seoul, has led a charmed life. Popular, talented, ambitious and hardworking, his heart is set on attending a prestigious SKY university and he will do anything to make that happen. However, when a school project takes an unexpected turn, he finds himself thrown into a whole new world that makes him question everything he has ever known and valued. As the pressure keeps mounting to achieve, Hanbin will be forced to make a decision he may regret for the rest of his life.
Relationships: Kim Hanbin | B.I/Kim Jiwon | Bobby
Comments: 16
Kudos: 32





	1. Bad Luck

**Author's Note:**

> “The paradox of education is precisely this - that as one begins to become conscious one begins to examine the society in which he is being educated. ” ― James Baldwin

It came as a surprise to no one that Kim Hanbin was elected School Captain of the Private Boys High School, Halmoon. In fact, his classmates, their parents, the teachers and the Principal had expected this to happen from his first day of high school; when the calm, confident, unassumingly handsome Hanbin had strolled in through the ivy-covered gates followed by a flock of boys jostling for his attention.

Nor had it surprised Hanbin himself when his name had been called out at the last assembly of his junior year, triggering an eruption of applause and whistles. When he’d accepted the gold-leaf badge and a firm handshake by Principal Kang, he’d felt a calm satisfaction. Everything was going as planned.

His mother liked to joke that she’d known Hanbin was going to ambitious when he was still in the womb, he was constantly kicking around, impatiently waiting for the freedom to pursue his goals. 

There had never been any doubt he would follow in his father, grandfather and great grandfather’s footsteps and enter the legal profession. However, while studying law at Seoul National University Law School had always felt like a birthright to Hanbin, he knew it was still a somewhat conditional inheritance. The competition was astronomical.

From years of watching older students fight an increasingly ruthless battle for SKY university acceptance letters, Hanbin had learned from a young age that to take his eyes off the prize for even a second could mean missing out. And while he was always pragmatic enough to know that he couldn’t come first every single time, he knew every well there were unimaginably clever students all over Korea, he couldn’t imagine ever giving up his dreams.

So even when Halmoon’s notoriously elite syllabus grew increasingly arduous and difficult, and it became and more and more challenging to manage his extra curriculum activities and cram school, he never lost his sense of purpose and calm. He had a destiny to fulfil and he knew that as long as he kept putting one book in front of the other everything would fall into place. He just had to be consistent.

By applying this attitude to all areas of his life Hanbin had amassed many talents. He had been playing piano since he was 4 years old but the violin had stolen his heart at 8 years old. He had been a first violin in every youth and school orchestra he had been part of. He had been playing tennis since he was big enough to hold a racket and while he had eventually had to accept he didn’t have the height or physique to become a Halmoon champion, he was a solid player and had many wins while on the school team.

He was Captain of the debate team and with his leadership they had won the coveted Seoul Private School debating Trophy two years in a row. He was also captain of Halmoon’s speech-writing and public speaking team. One of his self-written speeches during Juniour year had won an international award in its category and he had presented it before the South Korean President himself at the award ceremony.

Despite these activities which often took up his weekends, Hanbin never neglected his beloved volunteer activities. He volunteered at soup kitchens, regularly visited elderly Koreans in nursing homes, organised huge raffles and auctions to support South Korean and international social causes, and even gone on a school trip to East Timor where he assisted locals in building houses.

However, being an all-rounder does not necessarily ensure a student’s popularity, even if they do inspire awe in their peers. In fact, at a school as ruthlessly competitive as Halmoon, being so blatantly successful could easily make one a target for harassment and jealousy.

Fortunately for Hanbin, he had possessed the confidence of someone secure enough in their talent, potential and goodness to never be in need of defending or promoting it, thereby removing the possibility of jealousy before it even existed. He had never been a bragger, nor did he expect recognition even if he had become very used to it and would have been confused if he were not to receive it. He rarely spoke about his achievements made well-publicised by the Halmoon Student Newspaper, and was a good conversationalist, being someone naturally very curious about others and their lives. Often when speaking with Hanbin his peers walked away knowing more about themselves than him.

It was this unassuming yet solid self-containment that made Hanbin both likeable and very hard to resent. He easily congratulated others for their successes, was sincere when he wished his classmates good luck for their exams and matches, and he had infinite space in is brain to remember all the names of his two hundred fellow senior classmates, plus many students of the lower grades.

It was this calm, confident perseverance that drew others to him like moths to a flame, and while he never acknowledged his popularity to others, he knew very well that he possessed a likeability he could rely on to smooth his way through life.

***

For the students and parents of Halmoon, the school was synonymous with _connections_ , _outstanding education_ , _opportunities_ , and _tradition_.

For the students and parents who were not accepted through Halmoon’s gates, the school was synonymous with _elitism_ , _Anglophilia_ , _corruption_ and _boys_ _club_.

Halmoon was without doubt objectively different from many High Schools in Seoul. While most schools prided themselves on their modernity, consistent results, accessibility, and fairness, Halmoon prided itself almost entirely on its reputation and exclusivity.

Rather than allowing modernity to strip away the character and history of its sandstone halls, sharp turrets, wood-panelled walls, manicured gardens and glossy green sports fields, Halmoon held itself frozen in an era of time when appearances, social class and connections were just as important as education, if not more so.

Halmoon made a promise to all its students, and their parents, that they would not only provide the most well-rounded education possible for SKY candidates, but that they would prepare them to enter university one step ahead of the game: well-connected and at the top of every respectable social list.

Another differentiating factor for Halmoon was its many glamorous school traditions. Firstly, its sharp black blazer trimmed with scarlet, grey pants, scarlet and black striped tie and flashy golden emblem remained unchanged since the school’s establishment in 1909. Due to this striking colour combination Halmoon students were often referred to by outsiders as “hornets.”

Halmoon also had an annual son-mother ball for each year group. At this event the sons would escort their mothers to a glittering black-tie affair set in the grand hall to celebrate and thank their mothers for their support in preparing them for university. There was also a vote for the most beautiful mother with the award being presented to her by her own son.

Other traditions Halmoon boasted included the singing of the school anthem on the first and last day of each school semester and at every assembly in between, the famous Halmoon Archives, in which specially selected pieces of students work deemed to be outstanding were kept for posterity, and the administering of a SKY university student mentor to every Junior student for one semester, to encourage him for the upcoming College Scholastic Ability Test (as well as to aid his social life once commencing university).

Having a “School Captain” of the entire school instead of the usual “Class President” of each year group was another longstanding Halmoon tradition. According to Halmoon there was nothing more beneficial than having a single student elected by his peers to represent them all from upon a pedestal of academic success, career ambition, and model school values. After all, wasn’t this what happened in the real world?

The only tradition Halmoon took to bending increasingly often was its unapologetically nepotistic admission process. For many years Halmoon had only enrolled those students who had either been on a waiting list since birth, or who had a family member who had attended previously. These days, however, Halmoon was willing to consider students without prior connections as long as their parents were able to pay the school fees upfront and make occasional gestures of “appreciation,” in the form of regular donations to important school projects.

Over the years Halmoon had acquired a fully functional drama theatre, a set of baseball fields, a two storey gym equipped with all the latest fitness machines, an art gallery, a boatshed on the Han River, a virtual reality studio and a whole new east wing.

When this change had first come about South Korean media had blasted the school’s decision so severely a bill had been presented in parliament to set limits to parent donations and school fees. However, for reasons that remain a mystery, the bill was never enacted despite winning favour of the majority.

Uber wealthy boys continued to appear out of thin air at the beginning of each new year, and shiny Lamborghinis and Ferraris continued to pick them up at the end of each school day.

***

While some less scrupulous teachers may have nursed private resentments that Hanbin hadn’t sought their special favour throughout his school career, the majority of Halmoon teaching staff had breathed a sigh of relief when he was elected.

Apparently, many teachers whispered amongst themselves, this had been the most peaceful senior year Halmoon had educated in the past ten years. Some teachers were hopeful that Hanbin had shifted the character of the School permanently, which would have been an enormous triumph in itself considering the history of the school’s culture.

Principal Kang was often heard declaring to parents of potential students that “Halmoon is the finest hunting ground for SKY university careers in the country.” Most teachers secretly agreed this was a rather romantic interpretation of the school.

In simple terms a brutal social hierarchy, relentless competition, rampant snobbery and unreasonable parents hadn’t always made Halmoon the most pleasant school to attend. The campaign for School Captain itself, a title that looked very nice on university applications, was one of the biggest sources of bullying every year.

Previous candidates had waged wars of politics and intrigue while the teachers and Principal (intimidated by parents far more wealthy and powerful than themselves) stood by, powerless to intervene and hoping for the best.

By contrast, Hanbin’s ascent to the top of this school’s highly competitive population had been almost effortless, his only rival had been more or less symbolic. Even more bizarre, his influence over his peers had been remarkably benevolent. From day one, Hanbin had never resorted to bullying, intimidation, flaunting his family’s significant wealth and connections, bribing or scheming. It had never crossed his mind to.

Many Halmoon seniors didn’t know why they wanted to be close to Hanbin and if asked all they’d have been able to offer was “He’s just a really good guy.” These were the boys who weren’t in Hanbin’s inner circle of friends, they were his acquaintances, classmates and supporters, people whom Hanbin would smile and nod at when passing by in the impressive hallways of Halmoon, or have a brief chat with in between study sessions and tennis training.

A sub-set of this group were the students who thought themselves barely worthy of his company, sitting at the bottom of the school pecking order, a social constellation which Hanbin orbited oblivious and unscathed. They resigned themselves to admiring him from afar and turning pale when he gave them a friendly nod.

Some Halmooners wanted to be his friend because their parents told them to do so. _That young man is exceptional, you need to be friends with him, get rid of those friends who drink too much, who crash their father’s cars, throw luxurious parties in their mother’s holiday houses, and don’t study enough. Be like him._ These were the boys who threw themselves at Hanbin but failed to win him over. There was something about their inauthentic bravado that would have made anyone uncomfortable, let alone someone as canny as Hanbin. Nonetheless, he never ostracised anyone, even if he did have to regularly turn down invitations to luxurious weekends away on yachts and ski trips to Japan.

Then there were some Halmooners who wanted to be his friend because they lusted after what he represented: popularity and success. They hoped that by following his lead some of his exceptional qualities might rub off onto them, and unfortunately this led to some quite fanatical behaviours, earning this group of students the nickname, “the Hanbinners.”

When Hanbin had been a freshman he’d started wearing Tom Ford black brogues to school to appease a particular Uncle who’d given them to him for his birthday, instead of the usual black oxfords. Within a week anyone not wearing black brogues was considered a fashion criminal.

In his Sophomore year during he’d accidentally left his scarlet Halmoon scarf at home and his mother had forced him to wear her Burberry black checkered scarf before letting him out of the car. Overnight the Burberry stores in Seoul ran out of black checkered scarves and the Halmoon school assembly gathered the next day was full of them, an army of Burberry devotees. 

In his junior year when he’d grown his hair long after watching Wong Kar-Wai’s _Fallen Angels_ , the rest of his year followed suit. That said, this was a trend that had understandably taken a longer period of time for his peers to mimic. But unfortunately, for the staff who were in charge of maintaining the school’s aesthetic (neat, trimmed, short, natural hair) it lasted far longer than desired.

It was these same Hanbinners who stood by now, at the beginning of their senior year, waiting patiently for Hanbin to set his final trend, so they could follow him one final time.

And finally, there were a select few students, only four, who were his best, closest friends, simply because they liked him for exactly who he was, inside school and outside, and were luckily enough that Hanbin, for reasons of his own, felt the same way about them.

***

Firstly, there was Song Yunhyeong, whose parents owned a hospitality empire that ranged from a fried chicken chain popular throughout Korea to a series of Michelin star restaurants that served avant-garde Korean dishes in exquisite buildings with waiting lists up to a year-long. He was a good fit for Halmoon’s Vice Captain having three valuable assets: an amiability that allowed him to become friends with anyone within sixty seconds of meeting them, a knack for buttering up even the sternest of teachers, and a prince-like handsomeness that made others want to be associated with him.

That said, Hanbin didn’t see Yunhyeong as a collection of assets. All he knew was that Yunhyeong was one of the most demonstratively loyal and generous friends he’d ever had. Yunhyeong was the type of guy who’d do anything for someone he loved, whether they needed it or not. He was excellent at comforting those feeling down and was unintentionally hilarious on a daily basis. His quirks and silliness had gotten their group through some challenging high school moments.

Hanbin also knew that despite Yunhyeong’s popularity and religious adherence to the latest fashions and trends, he was actually an old man at heart, something he found equally irritating and endearing. While Yunhyeong was known to bicker with the other four of their inner circle he never disagreed with Hanbin and was his most consistent ‘Yes-Man.’

The only exceptions were when Yunhyeong felt Hanbin was putting himself at a disadvantage or was taking on too much work. Then all hell broke loose and Hanbin was followed around school all day by a nagging, worrying grandpa. He was never going to let Yunhyeong forget that time during their freshman year when Hanbin had defied his orders and played a tennis match outdoors late November, resulting in catching a cold. Yunhyeong hadn’t spoken to Hanbin for three whole hours when he’d returned to school after a day off. It had meant to be three whole days but Yunhyeong couldn’t stay mad that long and he liked talking too much.

Secondly in Hanbin’s select circle there was Jung Chanwoo, who along with Yunhyeong was considered a top visual of the school. His tall, well-proportioned frame, straight nose and aloof manner made him intimidating to many students who assumed he must be the type to look down on those less fortunate than himself in the looks department. Packs of girls from the Private school around the corner were known to wait for him to leave the school grounds and follow him for hours while he strode through malls, shopped at boutiques, bought coffees, and even crossed busy roads without once looking up from his phone and registering their existence.

What Hanbin knew of Chanwoo was that he wasn’t aloof or arrogant at all. He was the shyest most socially awkward dude he’d possibly ever met and he knew he would die before taking a subject that required public speaking. For this reason, Chanwoo had stuck mostly to the STEM subjects. Hanbin had been trying to convince him for years to join the debate team because he also happened to be one of the most effortlessly intelligent guys he’d met. Of all his friends it was Chanwoo with whom he enjoyed intellectual debates and discussions the most because he could play devil’s advocate relentlessly for hours and Hanbin loved the challenge. However, Chanwoo wasn’t a fan of doing anymore school work than he had to and he’d never taken the bait.

Chanwoo wasn’t a fan of opening up in front of others, but when with his closest friends he was expert at delivering a retort or comment at just the right moment, and for that reason was considered the most savage amongst them. Sometimes his sharp tongue got away from him and Hanbin would have to go into repair mode, soothing whoever’s feelings had just been temporarily annihilated by Chanwoo’s razor sharp wit.

But what fascinated Hanbin the most about Chanwoo was that he didn’t seem to need to study as much as any of them to get good marks. Hanbin knew for a fact that he spent equal parts gaming as studying, and that he was only accepting the responsibility to take on his Shipping Magnate father’s business so he’d be able to invest in his favourite software company without anyone to stop him. And if Chanwoo wasn’t gaming he was playing chess, another talent that Hanbin was convinced made him a covert genius. As chess captain of Halmoon’s chess society, Chanwoo was known for destroying opponents in as little as five moves. The only annoying thing was that whenever Hanbin asked him how he did it Chanwoo would shrug and say “I dunno. Let’s go get food.”

Thirdly, there was Kim Donghyuk, Hanbin’s oldest friend. They had known each other since Primary School and Hanbin couldn’t imagine life without him. Whenever he thought of Donghyuk he felt a calm nostalgia spread from head to toe. Donghyuk came from a long line of Surgeons and medical specialists. His father was a heart surgeon and his mother was a neurologist and everyone agreed he was made of the exact same substance with his analytical, exacting mind, unwavering focus and lightning fast working memory.

He was an extremely hard-worker, so much so that Hanbin, who was an excellent studier himself, looked up to him. For years now they had been study buddies, preparing with each other through thick and thin, rain and shine, for exams and tests. They had spent literally hundreds of hours together in libraries, at each other’s houses, and at Hagwon’s after school. Donghyuk was also a brilliant pianist and was always Hanbin’s first pick when it came to accompanists for his violin performances. They also had a tradition where every year they would play each other a favourite piece for their birthday. He was also famous for his dance skills, having performed frequently in Halmoon performances and musicals.

But more than any of that, what Hanbin loved about Donghyuk was his kindness and humility. He never had a bad word to say about anyone, and made it his life rule to stay above drama. Hanbin knew for a fact that Donghyuk had never spoken badly about someone behind their back, nor had he ever shared a secret told to him in confidence. The rest of the grade agreed and that was why Donghyuk had been voted Captain of Halmoon’s Human Justice and Charity League.

It was more often than not Donghyuk who Hanbin called for advice, a voice of reason, or a companion to help bounce ideas off (as long as Yunhyeong hadn’t managed to read his mind and called him first). It was Donghyuk who Hanbin knew he would be friends with forever, simply because at this stage they were pretty much family.

And last but not least, there was Kim Jinhwan who came from a family of real estate giants. His family owned huge shopping centres and luxury goods shops all over South Korea, and had more recently branched out into developing luxurious holiday retreats in the most beautiful parts of South Korea and Asia.

Jinhwan was small, handsome, feisty and the most successful (albeit infamous) amongst them when it came to socialising with the opposite sex.

He and Yunhyeong had always been partners in crime when it came to finding opportunities to cross paths with the beautiful girls of their sister school. However, in the middle of senior year Yunhyeong had decided to stop dating. He claimed it was because he needed to focus on his studies. Jinhwan claimed it was because Yunhyeong enjoyed tormenting the girls with his “unavailability.” And when Hanbin noticed Yunhyeong creating a beautiful vision for some onlooking girls one afternoon, leaning against the school gates gracefully, waiting for his chauffeur, forehead furrowed in brooding concentration, nose buried in a book that was upside down, Hanbin had conceded with amusement this was quite likely the case.

While Yunhyeong was a monogamist at heart, waiting for his dream Princess, Jinhwan was a Casanova, more interested in the chase than the actual prizes he accumulated. 

Jinhwan was always messaging a girl, a different one every week, but somehow he’d avoided earning the reputation of a fuccboi (even though they all had to accept he basically was). He was so adorable with his glossy parted hair and love-heart mole that he always managed to charm his way out of confrontations and accusations with ease. He had about five exes from within the last four years and somehow had managed to stay friends with all of them.

Due to his way with women he was known as the grade’s love guru, able to help even the most awkward of his classmates endear themselves to the girl of their dreams. He was also excellent at keeping his finger on the pulse of school gossip. It seemed to Hanbin and the others that Jinhwan knew every single student from every single school in Seoul. Walking past a bunch of girls they’d never seen before he’d delicately remove his lips from his boba tea straw and without missing a beat inform them “that was so and so’s girlfriend, but she broke up with him and got with his younger brother.”

And it wasn’t just girls, he had a way with their female teachers too. More often than not Jinhwan would be the first to arrive to class, boldly leaning against his teacher’s desk chatting with her about something that seemed to make her laugh a lot. Then the bell would ring and he would return to his own desk, proudly running a delicate hand through his shiny hair.

But what Hanbin loved about Jinhwan wasn’t this confidence and romantic skill, it was the sensitivity that lay beneath it. Although Jinhwan could be moody, particularly if his latest love adventure wasn’t going according to plan, it was his depth of emotion that Hanbin enjoyed. Jinhwan felt things strongly and often just hearing about these big emotions reminded Hanbin to live life fully and without hesitation.

It was this sensitivity that made Jinhwan a fantastic actor and performer. Along with Donghyuk he was always darting off to drama or musical theatre rehearsals, improv classes and private singing lessons. Every year Hanbin and the others sat through spectacular musicals in which Jinhwan was more often or not the star of the show.

On top of that, it was Jinhwan who would often say just the thing Hanbin needed when he needed it. Whether that was a word of encouragement, a blunt warning, or a sharp reminder, Hanbin could always trust Jinhwan’s authenticity. His intuition was strong and Hanbin respected it. In a strange way he’d had more life experiences than the rest of them.

Throughout his childhood and teen years he had travelled extensively with his parents who were connoisseurs of the arts. He knew all about different cultures having studied at many prestigious schools overseas, and had a passion for languages. He was now fluent in Japanese, Tagalog, Chinese and French. And while this travelling had made him the fascinating elegant guy he was, it was also the source of a great deal of disappointment in his family life. 

They all knew that his parent’s marriage was tumultuous. Rather than fixing it or ending it, his parents addressed their forever splintering relationship by moving to a new country every time a new crisis emerged. The only reason Jinhwan had managed to stay at Halmoon for as long as he had (3 whole years) was because he’d threatened to divorce from them if they didn’t let him remain at Halmoon as a boarder. Even though he was happier than he’d been in years, he would still descend into a funk every few months and they knew better to ask now what was wrong. It was always his parents.

Of all of them Jinhwan seemed to have felt more in life so far. And it was something he, often regrettably, liked to remind them of all often. That and that he was the oldest.

With these four friends by his side Hanbin knew he was very lucky and although school was going to be over in less than a year’s time, he knew that they had a bond that would last a lot longer.

***

“Are you nervous?”

“About what?” Hanbin replied without taking his eyes from his equations study notes.

“About The Project?” his classmate pushed. “We’re getting our topics today.”

“No. I don’t see anything to be nervous about,” Hanbin looked up and smiled, “I’m looking forward to getting started.”

There were only six seniors doing Social Studies at Halmoon this year, including Hanbin. None of those were Hanbin’s close friends. “I’d rather neck myself than do social studies” had been Jinhwan’s position on the subject.

The reason for such small numbers was because like Art, Biology, Drama, History Extension, Creative Writing and Music, Social Studies involved a “Major Project.”

Most Halmoon subjects involved only internal exams that needed to be passed to graduate from Halmoon, and content to prepare students to pass the notorious College Scholastic Ability Test in November, otherwise known as the Suneung.

But Halmoon subjects involving a Major Project involved internal exams which had to be passed to graduate from Halmoon, an extensive research or creative project that was to be handed in at the end of the year, and CSAT social studies test that would require them to reflect upon the research conducted for their major project.

At first Hanbin had been planning to drop Social Studies as he was already doing Korean, Korean History and culture, English, Hanja, Geography, Literature Studies, Mathematics and Modern History. But when his mother’s friend, who had connections with a University Admissions specialist, had shared that Major Projects made students stand out on college applications due to their arduous nature and university level thinking skills, he had changed his mind. It had taken a while to make his parents come around to the idea, but eventually they agreed. They had no choice, Hanbin had always been strong-minded and, so far, his judgement had never been wrong.

Social Studies had always been a relatively easy subject for Hanbin, he’d ranked first in it three years in a row. However, The Project was notoriously gruelling due to the original research, length and depth it required. Typically, only exceptional students, or those who considered themselves exceptional, dared take it on. And to do so required an interview with the social studies head teacher to approve their enrolment, which of course Hanbin had passed at the end of the last year with flying colours.

He knew it was going to be hard work, having an ongoing 10,000 word thesis to plan, research and write whilst also studying his other eight subjects, but he knew it was going to be worth it. After all, with such incredible competition to get into the best universities, one had to differentiate themselves somehow. And even though his grade average, school captaincy and list of extra-curricular activities were impressive, he knew there would be at least 100 other SKY candidates with exactly the same. He couldn’t just be brilliant, he had to be _original_.

And deep down, Hanbin knew he would crush it. What was a little bit more hard work to secure his place at Seoul National University School of Law? When it came to achieving his dreams he had to be indefatigable.

***

Hanbin watched onwards in amusement as his classmates bantered and freaked each other out over The Project they were about to receive. They tried to draw him in, but he just laughed them off

When they heard the soft clacking of heels approaching their classroom, the boys flew apart and stood beside their desks in Halmoon fashion. Hanbin followed suit just as their Social Studies teacher, Ms. Dan strode into the room.

It wasn’t entirely clear how one could possibly be so serene yet intimidating at the same time, but that was exactly the aura Ms. Dan managed to cultivate. Nothing fazed her. There was no retort she didn’t have the perfect comeback for. No flailing student she couldn’t raise from a C to an A. No question she couldn’t answer. No classroom debate she couldn’t resolve.

She could silence the room with a look simply because at some point, seemingly without trying very hard at all, she’d managed to convince her class that her opinion was priceless. She was hard to please, and yet, when she gave compliments it was impossible for even the most pretentious boy not to blush with pride.

She was in her early thirties and her career as a teacher was already off to a brilliant start. Teachers and students alike mentioned her with reverence tinged with intimidation.

She was neither beautiful, nor unattractive, tall nor short, boring nor striking, glamorous nor frumpy. And this worked for her just fine because it made the quality of her teaching all the more outstanding.

Another quality any Halmoon teacher had to possess to even be considered for employment, was a wealth of connections. To specialists, to university lecturers, to admissions specialists, to enrolment officers, to scholarship assessors. Ms. Dan must have been a professional social climber before she became a teacher because she knew someone in every reputable industry and university in the country. And for that reason Hanbin trusted Ms. Dan with his Seoul National University Law School dreams entirely. The only other person he trusted just as much was himself.

“Good morning Class,” Ms. Dan drawled in her usual ironic tone.

“Good morning Sunsengnim.”

“Take a seat boys, it’s time to get started,” She smirked, knowing full well her students were dying to receive their fates, wondering whether they were insane or not for taking on this subject in the same year as the most important exams of their lives.

She held a plain black folder delicately front of her chest like it was a sheet of glass.

“Inside this folder is the list of topics from the Board of Education. Each of you have received a mandated village, town or city upon which you will conduct research and prepare a thesis exploring the predominant social and economic issues you find there. As we all know, these locations are allotted randomly by the board to all students doing Social Studies throughout Korea.”

There was a long anticipatory silence until a student spoke.

“Have you read the list Miss?”

“I haven’t, that wouldn’t be fair would it? Of course, I waited to share it with my beloved students,” Ms. Dan demurred saracastically, her eyes briefly meeting Hanbin’s. “Well, are we ready?”

She grinned as the cluster of boys before her began to protest the delay, Hanbin included. He was also getting agitated now.

“Alright here we go….” She took out a paper, stamped with Board of Education insignia, and held it before her.

“Heejun….” She announced. Heejun jolted in his chair and they all held their breath, waiting to hear what his fate would be. “Jung District, Ulsan.”

There were sounds of surprise and appreciation. Heejun looked pleased and Hanbin smiled along, knowing that he was probably exploding inside with relief. Ulsan was a huge industrial city with many complex economic and social issues that would make for a spectacular Social Studies thesis.

“Sungho….Gangnam, Seoul.”

There were more appreciative sounds and Sungho looked leapt from his seat looking thrilled. Hanbin felt his chest drop with disappointment. He had personally been hoping to be designated Gangnam. With its huge retail industries and social issues it too would have made for a rich thesis.

“Jihoon….Icheon, Gyeonggi.”

Hanbin shut out the following sounds, he’d never wanted Icheon in the first place. He was still hoping for something impressive like Gwanghwamum or Yeouido in Seoul…his eyes glazed over as images of a glorious future passed through his mind: receiving the award for best thesis, shaking hands with the Minister of Education, adding the certificate to his university admissions portfolio, outlining his key findings in the Seoul National University Admissions interview…

“Hanbin….”

Hanbin froze and so did the rest of the class as they waited to hear what their exceptional school Captain would receive. Hanbin fought to remain impassive against the tension in the room and the weight of his classmate’s glances.

Ms. Dan paused and stared at the paper in front of her. Her brow furrowed and she looked as if confused but trying to hide it.

Hanbin’s heart sank with a cold rush. She glanced up at him and back down, a strange look on her face.

“This can’t be right…” she muttered, her cheeks turning pink. Hanbin felt the energy shift in the classroom from excitement to shock. He remained stoic, it couldn’t be that bad, surely?

“Hanbin…you’ve been designated Joollajong-ri, Chungnam.”

Hanbin felt his stomach flip at the unfamiliar name as if he’d just gulped a mouthful of unexpectedly sour milk.

While the Board of Education of South Korea was held to standards of fairness and equality by the government, there had always been unshakeable rumours of corruption. These rumours were talked down endlessly at Halmoon and the concept of “good luck” was strongly endorsed. Because for the last five years since their Social Studies subject had involved a Major Project, Halmoon students, and other prestigious private school students, had consistently received exciting, industrially, socially and economically rich locations for their theses. Public and less well to do schools had been complaining for years about their “bad luck” in receiving not such suitable towns. But so far, the board had done little to remedy the situation.

“Joollajong-ri, where is that?” Hanbin asked. Ms. Dan had broken a Halmoon protocol for teachers and was now searching it up on her phone. “And what is it?”

“It seems to be a small village...” Ms. Dan muttered as she read.

Hanbin heard the other boys talk under their breath behind and around him.

“Have you heard of it?”

“Where the hell is that…?”

“What is its main industry? Or economic or social issue?” Hanbin inquired, hoping his voice didn’t betray too much of his concern. 

“I can’t tell,” Ms. Dan replied in what sounded like irritable disbelief. She placed her phone behind her and gave him a heavy knowing look, “Hanbin, we’ll talk after class. We’ll sort this out.”

As Ms. Dan continued to read out the remaining topics and went over the course structure, Hanbin’s concentration faded out.

Something weird was happening for him. He had just received an unexpectedly anti-climactic topic for a ten thousand word thesis that he was counting on to get him into the university of his dreams. A village he’d never even heard the name of? That had no obvious industries, economic concerns or social issues? How the hell was he going to write 10, 000 words about such a stupid place? The towns picked were meant to be of _interest_.

A horrible heavy feeling over had come over him, an unpleasant feeling of resentment, victimisation and disappointment. What was this feeling? He’d never had it before and he wanted it to stop immediately…

He almost sighed aloud when the thought came to him. Was this feeling bad luck?

He’d never experienced it before, but he’d heard about it happening to others. It sounded terrible, unexpected things not going according to plan for stupid, senseless, uncontrollable reasons. He’d always felt sorry for those students who he’d heard had experienced it, although they weren’t very common at Halmoon. He’d heard that bad luck was more common at Public Schools but he’d never been interested enough to find out. 

Was that what was happening to him right now? Had he just become a victim of bad luck?

He stared down at the empty notepad in front of him that would have usually been full of notes and grit his teeth.

It was going to be ok, he was doing to speak to Ms. Dan after class, they were going to work something out. He wasn’t going to accept bad luck coming in between him and his university career, not today.

***

“I don’t understand what’s happened,” Ms. Dan muttered as she stared at her phone. She was sitting at her desk reading more information about Hanbin’s mysterious town. The classroom was empty now and Hanbin stood in front of her feeling useless and frustrated. He wanted to take her phone from her and get some answers himself.

“Is it a mistake?” Hanbin asked, hopefully.

“No, it’s not a mistake, the Social Studies team have taken a year to put this Syllabus together, they know exactly what they’re doing.”

“I can apply to have my topic change, right?”

“No, that is strictly not allowed, that’s the problem. The Department has _never_ permitted it. The idea is that the random designation makes things _fair_ ,” Ms. Dan scoffed.

“Miss, what am I going to do if this town is….” Hanbin didn’t even have the words for what a pain in the ass this whole situation could be. “Should I drop the subject?”

“No,” Ms Dan snapped. “Don’t you dare.”

Hanbin flinched. She looked up at him softly and gave him a long soothing smile, as if to make up for the previous tone.

“Hanbin,” she sighed, “don’t you know I’ll never let anything get in the way of you reaching your dreams? You’re our School Captain for a reason, you deserve the best.”

“Thank you, Miss,” Hanbin bowed.

“You’re welcome,” she gave him a wink that set his heart thudding.

It wasn’t so much that Hanbin was attracted to Ms, Dan, although being a teenage boy he was pretty much attracted to everyone and had been since he was 13, as he was conscious that maybe she was attracted to him. It felt so scandalous to consider that maybe this was the reason for her special treatment that he usually had to suppress it.

“I don’t want you to worry Hanbin, I’m going to speak to someone I know who works in the department. I’m going to find out what we can do because we both know this is not acceptable. You deserve better.”

“Thank you Miss. I appreciate it. Do I still start researching this weekend as planned?”

“Yes, I guess so. It will look better for our case that this stupid little village is unacceptable if you’ve actually been there to suss it out. Take lots of notes ok?”

“I’ll go this Saturday.”

“Good luck,” she grimaced. “I’ve always hated the countryside.”


	2. Middle of Nowhere

Usually after school, Hanbin went with the boys to get an after-school snack before returning to the palatial Halmoon senior library. After studying there for at least another hour they would head over to their prestigious cram school together and be there till 10pm. Then their mothers would come by in their cars and pick them up, ready with a hot drink and meal for them to enjoy

But today he excused himself from the group, he decided he needed to visit his mother.

Word of his situation had already raced around the entire grade by lunchtime. His friends all knew before they’d had a chance to reunite in maths class, and then they hadn’t had time to speak. Yunhyeong had been trying to send him paper planes containing messages all throughout the lesson, but none of them managed to travel more than a wonky half metre.

As soon as class had finished they gathered around his desk where he was sitting sulkily. They were appalled.

“What the hell happened?” Jinhwan demanding, draping himself over Hanbin's desk. 

“Who did this to you?” Yunheyong demanded, as if some anti-Hanbin conspiracy were responsible.

“This is _soo_ bad…” Hanbin groaned, “and it doesn’t even have an interesting history, or social issue, or economic issue…or _anything_? What the hell am I going to write about? Ten thousand words I have to write? I’m relying on this getting me into Law School!”

“If I were you, I’d get your dad to make a complaint to someone,” Chanwoo gave him a pointed look, “or I’d threaten Kangaroo (their nickname for their Principal) and get him to complain to someone. I know you don’t like it, but it’s time to remind everyone who your family are.”

“There’s no need for that yet,” Donghyuk scoffed. “Ms. Dan is going to figure something out. I’m betting she will arrange something for you, like an exception for something.”

“God, I hope so,” Hanbin muttered, accepting the ice-cold mineral water Yunheyong had just offered for him. “Or else this year is going to suck.”

***

As he made his way on foot from Halmoon to visit his mother he treated himself to a coffee from his favourite cafe, hoping it would temper that horrible bad luck feeling that was still hanging over him. He didn't know whether he felt supported by all the boys in his grade who'd expressed their regret for him, or if he felt irritated by it. This sort of thing wasn't meant to happen to him in the first place. That's why he went to a School like this, so these things didn't happen. 

His mother worked just a few blocks away from Halmoon, in a suburb known for its pricey cafes, clothing boutiques and wedding dress stores.

HERSTORY was the trendiest luxury antique and vintage store of its kind in Seoul. It was a stunning two storey warehouse converted into a chic wonderland of stunning pieces of art, pottery, jewellery, furniture, homewares, and decorations from all over the world and historical eras. It was renowned for its quality pieces, as Hanbin’s mother was exceptionally picky. 

She waited for the best of the best, no matter how expensive, and she was infamous in Seoul antique collecting circles for her ruthless bidding style at auctions. If she wanted something she got it.

His mother had always possessed the gift of discovering beauty, she spotted it before anyone else did. Whether it was an old cane chair, a dusty lace umbrella, or a manky vintage scarf, she was able to take things and transform them into something even more beautiful than they were before.

For this reason, she was an incredibly stylish, combining modern designer pieces with vintage designer pieces. Every day she wore something new and even his father had been banned from entering her walk-in wardrobe, it was her temple.

She was a short, slender, refined woman who looked ten years younger than she was. Often people mistook her for Hanbin’s sister. It was a well-known fact that Yunhyeong had a massive crush on her and that Chanwoo was terrified of her. 

Her shop had started off as a hobby project to keep her entertained while his father had worked long hours, but now it had grown into something entirely of its own. Not only did she source stunning, rare antique and vintage items from all over the world, collecting them in her store and then selling them to uber wealthy buyers, she rented out pieces for advertisements, tv series, documentaries and even movies. She had happened to provide some of the key furniture items for many of the great South Korean films of the past ten years.

When he’d been young, Hanbin had loved watching tv shows and movies, not for the action and stories, but because he’d loved guessing which items in the background belonged to his mother.

“That one?” He’d point at a beautiful chestnut set of draws from the Joseon period.

“Of course, that’s mummy’s,” she’d smiled, delighted he’d picked something so tasteful.

Hanbin pushed open the door of HERSTORY and a delicate chime tinkled throughout the spacious building. It was getting late and he knew she was about to close. Two pretty shop assistants tidying things paused and greeted him formally as he proceeded to hunt for his mother.

He wound his way through marble statues, velvet boudoir couches, shoulder height antique vases, cabinets of sparkling tiaras and necklaces, calling out for her, knowing full well she could be hidden behind something.

Not able to find her he went behind the front counter into the office space of the store.

“Mum?”

She was standing at work table, tallying sales on her macbook. As usual she was looking stylish wearing towering stilettos, chic tailored pants, a silky white blouse and Balmain leather jacket.

He walked over and kissed her dewy cheek before flopping down onto a pink velvet chaise.

“I had the worst day,” he informed her with a woeful expression.

She didn’t reply and kept typing in earnest. It made him smile, she always did this, acting as if she thought it was a pain he’d arrived at her work place. But really, he knew she loved it when he came to see her in her element.

“I got my social studies thesis topic today and it’s a disaster. Some stupid tiny country town that’s like, two hours away.”

“That’s unacceptable,” his mother announced, certainly and softly, letting him know that she was listening to his every word. “I’ll call Ms. Dan.”

“No, don’t, not yet. She’s said she’s going to try to figure something out.”

“I told you not to do that subject. It’s too much work and for what?”

“No Mum, I told you, I _know_ it’s a good idea. Remember what your friend Sooyoung said? Nearly all students have good marks these days, anyone can do well if they just study long and hard enough. What universities are looking for now is _originality_ , someone who stands out from the crowd. Subjects with Major Projects are the least popular for a reason. I need to do this to stand apart!”

His mother turned and looked down at him sprawled on the couch.

“Get up, that couch is new and not for you.”

Hanbin grinned.

“Mum, I came here for you to comfort me, not to boss me around,” he got up and threw his arms around her.

“You just told me Ms Dan was taking care of it,” his mother teased in a tone no one else would have known was a joke except for her son and husband. “I’ve offered my help for years and never once have you accepted it. You’ve always done your own work, made you own decisions and done what you want. What does my opinion matter? You came here to whinge and distract me. Be honest, I didn’t raise a liar.”

“You’re exaggerating so much!” Hanbin laughed in protest, “you’re a total helicopter Mum, you always have been!”

Hanbin loved his sassy mum to bits. As an only child she hadn’t just been his mother, but often his best friend. And that was how they talked to each other. They bantered, bickered, agreed, conspired, and indulged each other.

His father, who was twelve years older than his mother, had already been a successful barrister for many years by the time he was born. Much of his youth his father had left before he’d woken in the morning and had typically arrived home when he was already in bed. It hadn’t stopped him from waiting up and sneaking into his father’s office to surprise him though.

But it was his mother who had been there through every one of his assignments, awards, achievements, concerts, matches, speeches, and end of year assemblies recognising student rankings. She was his biggest cheerleader, just a very refined one. 

What he loved most about his mum was her ambition and devotion to her family. He loved that she let him do what he needed to pursue dreams, but that she was always there to fight for him the moment he encountered an obstacle There was no doubt in his mind his mother was with him every step of the way when it came to following his dreams.

Every year Hanbin bought her extravagant gifts and to took her away on holidays. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

“You can still comfort me though!” Hanbin whined. Finally, his mother paused her calculations and looked at him. She pinched his cheek.

“Darling, you are going to study at Seoul National University Law School. You are going to be a brilliant barrister just like your father. There is not even a tiny piece of doubt in my mind that this will happen. You deserve the best and no son of mine will receive less than that.” She kissed him on the forehead and gave his shoulders a rub.

“Thanks Mum.”

“Now go study. I have work to do and you’re annoying me,” she chuckled and gave him a shove towards the door.

***

That crisp Saturday morning Hanbin’s inner circle came to see him off at Seoul station. They were all wearing their most luxurious padded coats and making fun og Yunheyong because he was wearing Fendi earmuffs and couldn't hear them properly, but he refused to take them off. 

It was already cold here in Seoul, he didn't want to think how feezing it was going to be in the countryside.

He was resentfully resigned to his situation this weekend, he trusted Ms. Dan, she'd never been wrong so far in his whole Halmoon education. He was going to this obscure village to suss it out, but he already decided he wasn’t going to settle for it. He was only going to notes to build his argument for why he needed an exception to change his thesis research location. Joollajong-ri was unacceptable thesis material, he knew that already, and no matter what it took he was going to demand the Board of Education give him an exemption. But that did not mean he wasn't angry he had to do this in the first place; such a long stupid journey that was going to take an enormous chunk out of his day which he could have spent studying and playing golf with his father.

First, he had to get a train to Daejeon which was an hour and a half, then he had to get on a bus for another 30 minutes. Yunhyeong was already fussing over the whole situation.

“I don’t understand why can’t just get your Chauffeur drive you ? It’s two hours away!”

“No, because, the journey being way too long is the whole point. I need to say, "look, I did the trip it was too long, it’s going to put me at a disadvantage, give me a different topic." Also, Hangyeol always has Sundays off.”

“Your chauffeur has a day off?” Jinhwan looked at Hanbin in surprise. His own parents who were currently based in Vienna would never have considered such a thing. They hadn't driven themselves anywhere for years.

“How long are you going to be there though?” Chanwoo looked concerned as well. “I’ve heard the water in the countryside is dirty as hell.”

“Oh my god.” Yunhyeong’s face fell receiving this frightening news. “Don’t you dare drink a single drop, no matter how thirsty you get!” he pointed a finger at Hanbin who glared at Chanwoo. 

“I have two water bottles, I’ll be fine, _god_. I’m not going to some war-torn country you guys, I’m just going to some pitiful rural village!”

“Also don’t eat the food, it could be ridden with parasites.” Jinhwan added. 

“Hanbin!” Yunheyong yelped. “This is unnecessary, I’m calling my chaffeaur, he will take both of us.”

“No! Yoyo, you need to study and I have snacks, I will be fine. Come on guys, I need to do this.”

And with that he stepped onto the train that was now signalling it's imminent departure, and found the cleanest seat possible. As the train pulled away and his friends waved at him forlornly, except for Chanwoo who looked rather amused by the whole situation, Hanbin couldn’t resist indulging in a moment of self-pitying spite towards the Board of Studies. But then the moment passed and he remebmered he needed to study. He wasn't going to waste this precious hour and a half doing nothing. 

***

Even his parents the night before had thought going to Joollajong-ri was a waste of time.

“But aren’t you changing towns?” His father have him a quizzical look across the long, elegant dinner table. “Why spend your Saturday going to this nowhere place if next week you’ll be assigned something new?”

“I know, but Ms. Dan said that it will look more convincing if I go to the town in person, _then_ complain. Or else the board will think I’m being spoilt without even checking it out and assessing it first.”

“It’s a waste of time, I’ll call Ms. Dan,” his mother snapped, taking out her mobile.

“No, Mum! Don’t, come on,” Hanbin cringed. His mother was way too comfortable calling Ms. Dan and making impossible demands, it embarrassed him. “Just let me do this. I’m playing the game right, let me go and make sure it’s not suitable.”

“Hangyeol will drive you.”

“No, it’s his day off, that’s mean.” His father smiled and his mother pet his cheek. 

“Sweet heart, you’re always so good to others. Fine, go see this horrible village and come back and tell us what a waste of time it was, you stubborn boy.”

***

Hanbin had never been to Daejeon as far as he could remember. It was alright he supposed, it was kinda pretty with more greenery and space then Seoul. But he could tell it was somewhere he could never live. It lacked a certain style. Also it was a grey drizzling day which did not make the place any more appealing. He wished he was at home in the family library, a large, warm, beautifully furnished room with a fireplace, an array of luxurious sofas, a whiteboard he used to brainstorm ideas, and a huge coffee table perfect, perfect for hosting endless textbooks, a pot of steaming jasmine tea, and freshly prepared snacks by Bongcha, the family chef. 

He studied Modern History on the long train ride and took out his textbook again as he waited at a dirty loud bus stop near Daejeon station for the mysterious 347 bus that would take him to Joollajong-ri. So far, he was the only passenger waiting, which concerned him greatly. It confirmed his worries that he was truly heading into the middle of flipping nowhere.

The bus finally rumbled up 15 minutes late and Hanbin could barely hide his irritation. It was a dusty, rattling shuttle-like thing that released the scent of sweaty socks and old groceries when the doors flung open. His mother would have refused to step foot onto a bus like this. The Bus driver glared straight ahead and didn’t even greet him.

He headed up the back of the bus, once again dusted off the seat before sitting, and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible. It was freezing, his breath was even misting up even on the bus itself. He looked around and noticed his most windows were open. Just as he’d almost dragged the nearest one closed, the bus jolted forwards and he yelped and was nearly thrown over the seat in front of him. The driver didn’t seem to notice a thing, which Hanbin thought was very rude.

He didn’t bother looking up from his textbook until the bus had finished collecting its whole four passengers from within the Daejeon city centre.

It was the flash of green from the corner of his eye that caught his attention. They were now on a highway lined by thick green pine forest. The sky was stormy grey and they were driving through a mist that alternated from wispy, to thick and foggy. He hadn’t been in the countryside for ages, and when he did it was to stay with Jinhwan at one of his beach mansions or with Chanwoo in one of his ski lodges. This gloomy countryside was far from glamorous. 

The bus continued chugging along the highway for sometime without stopping for what seemed such a long time it made Hanbin. What if he wasn't on the right bus? When he'd inspected the route last night Joollajong-ri had not seemed this far from Daejeon. He cautiously made his way up the shuddering bus to speak to the driver.

“Excuse me Sir, is this bus going to Joollajong-ri?”

“Yeah?” barked the driver as if annoyed Hanbin needed that information. “Sit down. You’ll fall and break your neck.” Hanbin stared, unsure whether he needed to remind this driver to have some manners. He decided it wasn’t worth it and asked another question as politely as he could. 

“Could you please let me know when we are nearly there?”

“Yes! Now sit down!”

Hanbin returned to his seat feeling all the more irritated by the whole situation. The bus rumbled on for what felt like another lifetime. 

Finally, the bell pinged, and the bus pulled up to a rusty stop sign on the highway, letting off an old lady carrying a basket of something that smelt far too pungent to be on public transport. Hanbin was glad to see her go, he’d been sitting with his hand over his nose for the last 15 minutes.

The next passenger to leave was the snoring middle-aged man who’d spent the entire trip with his head hanging over the back of his seat, sleeping unapologetically then waking up just in time for his stop.

The road became bumpier and bumpier and just when Hanbin had been about to speak to the driver again, the bus slowed down and they pulled into the station of a humble urban town. It was hard to tell just from this street how big this town was, surely not nearly as big as Daejeon, but nearly as populated. 

The rest of the passengers exited quickly, thanking the driver with broad country accents that made him cringe.

As he grabbed his bag and made his way to the bus doors he got a better view of what he was dealing with and his stomach churned. Joollajong-ri was even worse than he’d expected. He could see a few dated looking business buildings, a large outdoor food market over there, a group of elderly men smoking together on a street corner, a mother dragging her son kicking and screaming down the main road, some tacky looking stores, dirty gutters, a grimy food stalls set up on the pathways..

“You said Joolljong!” The bus driver blurted as Hanbin was about to step off the bus.

“Yes, Joolla-jong-ri?” Hanbin froze, pointing at the miserable looking town outside.

“That’s not Joollajong-ri, that’s _Cheugdo-si_ ,” the driver informed him as if he were a simpleton.

“Oh…”

“Joollajong-ri is next. 10 minutes away. Last stop.”

“Ah I see…thank you.” Hanbin returned to his seat feeling numb. The bus didn’t go any further into the Cheugdo town centre, instead it did a loop through the bus station and off onto a bumpy dirt road framed by even thicker forest.

He stared in bewilderment out the window as the bus driver sped up, not having to worry about speed limits now he was really off the beaten track. Trees, trees, more trees for a full ten minutes without a single stop in sight. Joollajong truly was the very last stop. 

Finally, the bus slowed down and forest road widened out into a small hilly clearing, dotted with what could be no more than 25 buildings, but it was hard to tell, the fog was so thick Hanbin couldn't see more than 200 metres ahead. 

The bus drew to a halt and he could see the driver staring at him resentfully in the rear-view mirror. Stunned, Hanbin pulled his scarf tighter around his neck and made his way off the bus. 

“Remember last bus at 4pm!” the driver bellowed and the bus doors slammed behind him. The bus rattled away noisily leaving Hanbin on the main road of the most desolate village he’d ever seen.

There wasn’t anything likeable about it at all. The buildings were run-down without any old-world charms to them. It was all stained, flaky paint, weed crops spilling out from handmade fences, tarpaulins stretched over patches of roof, exposed plumbing, rusted bicycles, random tires, buckets full of rainwater, random alleyways leading to more run-down houses, overgrown trees, sooty chimney tops, dirty window sills, soupy puddles. Even the thick woods surrounding the town all around didn’t strike Hanbin as beautiful, instead it just seemed ominous and claustrophobic. 

In fact, Hanbin noticed, the place stunk as well. It smelt like manure! 

He looked down at his feet in a panic, and yep, he'd stepped straight into a pile of old cow dung. He looked up to the sky as if admonishing God himself, and uttered a long seething groan. He broke a branch off a nearby shrub and did his best to pry the dung from his sneaker sole. 

WHen convinced he had cleaned his shoe sufficiently, he began to wander slowly down the main street. It was hard to tell how long it was because the fog was so thick, but he hoped to find at least one cafe, or library or town centre open. But each store he passed seemed to be closed or boarded up.

That was when he noticed someone up ahead through the mist, the only human life he had seen so far in this god-forsaken place. 

There was a male figure standing outside the only open store on the whole street, possibly in the whole town. It looked like a small shabby white convenience shop covered in faded posters. A delipidated drink machine sat outside along with a wooden bench. 

Through the fog Hanbin peered at whoever it was, trying to get a sense of his age. It was hard to tell as he was wearing a large hoodie obscuring most of his face. All he could see was a sharp note-tip. He was leaning against the wall of the shop, bringing a cigarette to and from his mouth, the smoke of which blurred into the fog around him, looking at his phone, indifferent to the world.

Hanbin took in the sight of his clothing: scuffed, dirty high tops sneakers, a pair of the slouchiest, most distressed jeans he’d had ever seen, and there was a long set of colourful keychains hanging from his jeans pocket. His mother would never have let him wear such an outfit. 

Hanbin wasn’t sure this guy was a hoodlum, but he definitely struck him as intimidating in a rather common sort of way. He looked the way he imagined public school bullies looked. If Yunhyeong had been here he very well would have called the police.

He was surprised the guy hadn’t looked up yet, considering the bus had been as loud as twenty farting hippos and the town itself was almost silent.

He looked around cautiously, hoping that someone else more approachable would appear. But no one did, it was a ghost town.

With a deep sigh he decided he was going to have to approach store with the hoodlum outside. He had no choice, the convenience store was his only hope. He needed wifi and someone to answer his questions about this miserable, impoverished place.

When he was about 3 metres way the hoodlum moved suddenly. He dropped his cigarette to the ground, stamped it out and slipped his phone away in one swift movement. Still without looking up he strode into the store.

Hanbin froze. Was the hoodlum the shop assistant? Was he going to have to talk to him? Ugh, he hated talking to people like this…it was always so awkward. He braced himself and stepped into the store.

As he entered clanging filled his ears. The Hoodlum was behind a greasy, glowing hot food counter at the back of the store, wiping down a small kitchen area, washing pans and frying equipment, and tossing them gracelessly into the cupboards already teetering with ill-placed kitchen items.

Hanbin looked around. It was a dim, joyless little store.

There were two tacky plastic tables and matching chairs, old wooden shelves lined the walls containing basic necessities, two fridges containing milk, water and juices, and a few pieces of random fruit. There were loaves of bread, snacks, a humble meat freezer that gave Hanbin the heebie-jeebies, a pitiful range of candies and sweets, and a magazine and newspaper rack that looked like it hadn’t been updated for years.

He approached the counter apprehensively.

The Hoodlum-turned-convenience-shop-assistant continued to bang around, acting as if he had no idea anyone else in the world existed except himself. Hanbin tapped the counter in front of him for some time, waiting to be noticed. Shocking customer service, his Mum would have fired this dude for his clothing alone.

He looked at the cabinet of hot food in front of him. Everything was greasy, shiny and steaming: a variety of dumplings steamed and fried with crispy bottoms, thick tteok-bbeoki bubbling in spicy sauce, plump pancakes sprinkled with sesame seeds, some dusted with sugar, crumbed hotdogs wrapped in melted cheese, chilli dusted potato twisters on sticks, homemade fried chicken. He remembered what Jinhwan said about parasites and shuddered to himself.

“Um, hello?” He raised his voice slightly to catch the attention of the assistant who was now at the far back of the store, shoving boxes around. The assistant decided that he, the customer, did in fact exist, pulled down the hood of his jacket, returned to the counter, grabbing a pair of tongs and a little plastic takeaway counter. He poised himself in readiness to collect Hanbin’s order.

Seeing him up more closely Hanbin could see that he was young, maybe only a year or two older than himself. But he didn’t look anything like his friends at school, or anyone he knew in Seoul for that matter. He had a sharp, square jaw, a narrow nose and a slightly pouting lower lip. His eyes seemed glazed over, bored even, which contrasted with the shiny silver piercing through his left eyebrow. What stood out to Hanbin most was his unevenly dyed lavender hair, gathered up in a rough high pony tail. A few loose strands drifted down from his temples, highlighting ears packed with piercings.

Definitely a public school bully, Hanbin thought to himself. Tough, worn around the edges, raw. And worst of all, he probably thinks he looks really cool…sad really. 

“Oh, I don’t want anything,” Hanbin waved his hands in a cancelling motion, “I just wanted to ask some questions about this place.”

Then, finally, the assistant looked up at him directly. The aloof surprise in his eyes took Hanbin aback for a second. It was as if he had been surprised by the act of communication itself.

“I’m from out of town, as you can probably tell,” Hanbin smiled, trying to be as self-deprecating as possible, he heard rural people hated pretention, “and I’m wondering if you could point me in the direction of the local library, is it open today?”

The assistant frowned slightly and his pupils darted to the side, then back at him, as if his brain was trying to process conflicting data.

“Sorry, I should have explained,” Hanbin smiled as dashingly as he could. “I’m from Halmoon.”

He waited for understanding to pass through the assistant’s eyes, after all, Halmoon was one of the most famous schools in the whole country. But once again the assistant’s eyes darted to the side and back again, nonplussed.

“So…I need wifi and a place to set up my computer…?” Hanbin added, becoming vaguely irritated by the assistant’s zombified manner, “…So yeah, if there’s a library that would be awesome…”

The assistant put down his tongs and rubbed his nose with back of his hand with a loud sniff.

“No library here,” he offered bluntly in a low gravelly voice. He sounded like he’d only woken up five minutes ago.

“No Library?”

The assistant looked towards the main street with a raised eyebrow as if to say “you saw yourself how small this place is, didn’t you?”

“Right,” Hanbin muttered. “So, is this it? Is _this_ all of Joollajong-ri, on this main road?” Hanbin asked, gesturing with a limp disappointed hand to the main road, too deflated to keep the indignation from his voice. "I thought because of the fog, there was more...." he paced over to the door of the store and stuck his head out. The fog had shifted slightly and now he could see, that yes, it was true, Joollajong-ri was a 300 metre long main street, nothing more. 

The assistant stared at him from behind counter as if he were a mad man.

“How is this place so _small_?” Hanbin demanded, walking back to the counter, enraged. “I’m guessing this place doesn’t have a council building, or information centre, or tourist office…anything like that?”

The assistant didn’t need to confirm yes or no. He raised an eyebrow again and looked away.

“How do villages like this even exist? Like, what’s the point, you know?” Hanbin laughed bitterly. “How many people live here? What do people do here?”

The assistant shrugged.

“Look, I travelled really far to get here today, I’m from Seoul,” Hanbin informed him, snappily. “I’m a student at Halmoon, I mentioned that, right?” he added, hoping that by saying it a second time things might finally gel. But still, no response.

“Halmoon? The School? Private Boys School, Seoul?” Hanbin pressed, scouring his brain for any key words that might help this idiot finally understand his situation. The assistant cleared his throat loudly.

“k…” He mumbled slowly, avoiding eye contact “did you like...wanna buy anything?”

“I just need somewhere to work for a bit, can I set up over there?” Hanbin pointed at one of the tacky plastic tables.

The assistant frowned and glanced down at the food cabinet in front of him.

“If I _buy_ something can I work here?” Hanbin tried again, through grit teeth. The assistant once again grabbed the takeaway box and tongs.

“Just two of the…fish-sticks I guess…and one of those strawberry milks,” Hanbin muttered. He only chose them because they were the least feral looking items and he wasn’t planning on eating them anyway.

He dumped his bag down on one of the plastic tables, took out his laptop and began furiously typing notes.

_ Case for why Joollajong-ri is not a viable research topic _

  * _Roads in state of disrepair - clear signs of poverty and lack of council initiative._
  * _Evidence of low socio-economic conditions, evident in accents, clothing and presentation._
  * _No signs of substantial socio-economic issues to justify a ten-thousand word thesis. Unviable research option, grounds for exception to change location._



“It’s getting cold…” the assistant’s rough voice came from behind the counter.

Hanbin looked up. He was gesturing to the plastic container containing the fish sticks. He hadn’t even thought to bring them over to him, the customer. 

“Keep them, I don’t want them,” Hanbin muttered. He really didn’t meant to be rude, but he just wasn’t in the mood to indulge anyone right now. He was feeling absolutely furious and miserable about this horrible situation he was in.

He typed for some time, connecting and reconnecting to the dodgy wifi offered on the back of a dilapidated looking food menu. At some point music started playing and he looked up, the assistant was sitting on stool behind the counter watching a video on his phone. 

“Sorry, could you keep it down?” Hanbin asked. “I’m just trying to get some work done here.”

The assistant did another annoying eye-brow raise and put his earphones in.

“Thanks,” Hanbin muttered.

***

Fifteen Minutes before the bus was due Hanbin stood up with an irritable sigh. It was time to get the hell out of here.

“Thanks,” he offered the assistant just before leaving the store. The assistant didn’t even look up, he had his headphones in and his eyes were closed, slowly nodding to whatever music it was he was listening to.

The first thing Hanbin did once he got on the rattling rural bus back to Daejeon was call Yunhyeong.

“It’s a total disaster,” he informed him, staring at the bleak forest rushing past his bus window.

“Oh my god! It’s that bad is it?” Yunhyeong gasped.

“There is nothing here. _Nothing_. A complete waste of space. I don’t even know how anyone could live there, it's most depressing place I’ve been to in this whole country.”

“What are you going to do?”

“No idea, but I can’t research this place, it’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to. Kangaroo and Ms. Dan will find a way for you, this is totally unfair.”

“Yeah, they better or I’m going to have a nervous breakdown,” Hanbin grumbled.

“When you are you back in Seoul? I’ll come pick you up from the station, we can study together this afternoon.”

“In your new Coupe?” Hanbin teased, knowing that Yunhyeong’s father had gifted him a Maserati as a reward for successfully becoming Vice Captain.

“Uh, of course. Why else would I be offering you a lift?” Yunhyeong joked. “Seriously though, I am so in love. I cry for at least 5 minutes every time I sit behind the wheel.”

“Did you go with grey or white in the end by the way?”

“Orange!”

“Ugh, you’re so vulgar.”

“No trust me, you’re going to change your mind when you see it! Give me a buzz when you get there.”

“Sure, thanks Yoyo.”

***

“So, there is good news, and bad news,” Ms. Dan informed Hanbin in a grave tone. “What would you like to hear first?

They were in her sleek private school office, sipping coffees that had just been brewed by the Staff Room barista. It was lunchtime and he should have been playing tennis but when the loudspeaker had summoned him to the staff building he’d raced there straight away.

“The Board of Education isn’t going to grant me an exemption to change topics, are they?” each word he uttered seemed to deflate him more. 

“No, they’re not.” Ms. Dan sighed and ran her long hands through her hair agitatedly. “I’ve tried _everything_ , all my contacts. I’ve tried other teachers too, I’ve made hundreds of phone calls this past week to speak to the right people…but they _all_ said the same thing. TNo student has ever successfully had their request to change topics approved. The Board of Education is adamant that this is fairest and in light of the recent accusations of corruption they definitely will not be risking changing things for a Private School student right now."

“What about my report? All the notes I took about Joollajong-ri, how unsuitable it is?”

“Apparently the Social Studies team are convinced it is a site of importance but they refuse to specify how. They say it’s up to you to work that out…”

“Far out…” Hanbin slumped back in his seat and stared at his teacher miserably. “Miss, what am I going to do? I’m freaking out, I need to drop this.”

“Hanbin, _no_.” Ms. Dan leant as far across the table as she could. She didn’t touch his hand but put hers near his, and looked at him long and hard. “You haven’t heard the good news yet!”

Hanbin sighed.

“How many high schools are there in this country?” She asked with a coy smile.

“Thousands, surely?”

“Twenty-Thousands to be exact. But only 3% of those schools offer a social studies subject involving a Major Project. So that makes it 600 schools to be exact. And Social Studies classes contain 4 students on average. So, with 6 times 600, there are 3600 students writing a thesis, just like yourself. Last year data collected showed that 50% of those social studies students planned to go on to do a Law Degree, just like yourself. So, this year Hanbin, you are currently up against at least 1800 students, hoping to do well enough in their Social Studies thesis, along with their other subjects, to get into the law school of their dreams.”

Hanbin stared, unsure how this was supposed to be good news. Ms. Dan held a finger as if to say “wait, I will explain.”

“You have already narrowed your competition down significantly by taking this subject. Only 3% of students are taking this subject, the rest don’t even dare. If you do well in this, then wow, this is going to make a very compelling argument for why you deserve an enrolment at Seoul National Law School more so than the next non-social studies student.”

“Ok…but that’s the problem, Miss, this town is a dump!”

“But what if it’s not so much about the _content_ of the thesis…as it is what the thesis _represents_?” Ms. Dan gave him a sly look. “I spoke to several people this past week, and apparently, for University Admissions teams, they are less concerned with what your thesis says, and more so with the efforts you took to make it happen.”

“You mean that-”

“Law School Admission Officers look _very_ highly upon students taking on challenging topics involving travel and huge time commitments and time management skills. They see a direct correlation between this and students then being able to handle the travel, long work hours and dedication that a law degree requires. Law Schools don't want to enrol flakes, they want student with a "can-do attitude." ”

“Right,” Hanbin frowned, that made sense in a weird way. “So, just my doing this project with all its challenges, the train rides, the bus rides, the chunks it takes out of my weekend, the time management and organisaiton, _that_ is really what people will care about when my thesis is done?”

“Exactly.” Ms. Dan nodded knowingly. “Hanbin, don’t worry too much about this thesis, pull something together that makes sense, and watch as the University Admissions officers gasp in awe as they realise you conducted such a complex project whilst juggling all your others subjects, for an _entire_ year.”

Hanbin nodded slowly at first as he processed this information, then faster as he decided he found it palatable.

“My mum is going to freak out though.”

“Don’t worry about your Mum, I’ll call her today and talk it over. When she sees this is actually going to work well in your favour, she will come around.”

Hanbin was feeling energised again and ambition was hurtling through his veins. He needed to get onto the tennis court before lunch was over and release his excitement through some serves.

“Thank you so much Ms. Dan. Honestly, I don’t know how I will ever be able to thank you."

“You’re my star pupil Hanbin, you make my efforts more than worthwhile every day.”

The office door opened and Principal Kang walked in. He was a distinguished looking man who had apparently been quite the scholar in his day. Right now, however, most students saw him as a kind of bossy, pompous mascot whose most important skill seemed to be saying the exact right thing to the media and parents at the right time, and making grand but vague promises. He was a true diplomat and an excellent flatterer. 

“Hanbin!” Kang exclaimed warmly, walking over and giving his shoulder a slightly painful squeeze. “I believe Ms. Dan has just spoken to you about this Social Studies dilemma?”

“Yes, Sir."

"So unfortunate this business isn't it? Being given such a...a....disappointing topic for such a bright, young mind."

Hanbin nodded, “But I trust Ms. Dan, I think she’s right, it might be worthwhile for me to put the hard yards in now so that distinguishing myself from other law school candidates is easier later on.”

”Yes, yes, yes,” Mr. Kang nodded solemnly, “and also, don’t forgot Hanbin, you are our School Captain. Dropping a subject simply because it is ‘too hard’ does not send a good message to your peers, does it?”

Hanbin blushed, he hadn’t even thought of that. He glanced over at Ms. Dan who remained impassive. He wondered why she hadn't mentioned that Kang would be dropping in on their conversation. 

“Yes, very true Sir.”

“Good lad, very good. You’re going to be an exceptional lawyer Hanbin, this school is honoured to have you as our School Captain. Don’t let us down!”

“I will Sir, and I won’t Sir.”

Ms. Dan and Principal Kang gave him long luxurious smiles. 

***

“What? You’re going to go ahead with it?” Donghyuk asked reached for the tennis ball Hanbin had just served. He hit it back with precision but just a second later Hanbin’s backhand had him running up close to the net to catch it.

“Yep,” Hanbin grunted, as he raced to the net to catch the ball on the tip of his racket.

“Your Mum is going to kill you,” Donghyuk panted, looking genuinely worried.

“It’s all good, Ms. Dan is going to speak to her tonight. And anyway, Mum can’t stop me, Dad can’t either. Deep down they know I can handle it.”

They took a break and met at the side of the court to have a drink of water.

“It’s so much work though…how are you going to manage it all on top of going all the way down there once a week?”

“I won’t have to go once a week, at most once a fortnight.” Hanbin looked at his best friends face. “Hey, don’t worry!” He laughed. “When have I ever not been able to complete something I have started?”

“Well…”

“Well?”

“Never, but still, this is going to be the hardest year of our lives so far, you know that right? This is going to be intense. We have course work, our student leader duties, volunteering, study, cram school, and all the extra-curricular stuff. I genuinely think you are biting off more than you can chew.”

“Come on, it’s me we’re talking about. You know I thrive on being busy. You’re worrying about stress that hasn’t even happened yet!”

“I dunno Bin, do you really think it’s necessary?”

“For law school? Heck yeah. I didn’t work this hard for this long not to get into Seoul National University.”

“What if you get into it and find you can’t stand it,” Donghyuk teased.

“Can’t stand law?” Hanbin gave him a disgusted look. “What on earth are you talking about, I’ve been waiting to be a lawyer my entire life. I’ve been discussing human rights law with my dad since I was like, 4 years old.”

“Talking about it is different to living it….” Donghyuk gave him an annoying little smirk.

“Why are you being Chanwoo, playing devil’s advocate?” Hanbin complained and Donghyuk laughed.

“I’m joking, I’m just pushing your buttons. Questioning your love for law is literally the only thing I can get you mad about. I know you’ll love it, you’re a born lawyer, it’s in your family. You’re going to be the youngest judge in South Korea, I know it.”

“Ok, then stop worrying about me,” Hanbin insisted, giving Donghyuk a loving push. “Come on, let’s go, it’s starting to rain.” They left the Halmoon tennis courts and made their way up the forest path to the changing rooms. As they went younger boys raced past them, greeting them as they went. 

“Just don’t go burn out ok?” Donghyuk smiled. 

“Burn out?” Hanbin questioned aloud, “I don’t get people who burn out. Not at all.”

***

That night he studied at home in the library with difficulty. He’d kept the door open so he could eavesdrop. So far, his mother has been on the phone with Ms. Dan for 40 minutes and 65 seconds and from the sharp tone in her voice it didn’t sound like the call was going to end anytime soon.

He was ready to fight if his mother hadn’t been convinced, but he was really hoping he wasn’t going to.

He couldn’t help it, he hated when his parents tried to made decisions for him. He was an only child, that was his excuse.

There was a knock on the door and in walked not just his mother, but also his father. He'd come home earlier from work tonight and Hanbin guessed his mother had just briefed him on the whole situation.

“So, I just spoke to Ms. Dan….” His mother announced. “She is convinced this project isn’t going to be a waste of time.”

“No, Mum, it’s going to really give me a competitive edge, really.”

“But we have some questions,” His father chimed in. He was a tall handsome man with a perpetually thoughtful, if not slightly weary, expression. Hanbin watched as his mother starred at his father. She always did this, brought in her husband when Hanbin was bring stubborn about something, as if that somehow would change his decision. “It is such a long travel time, to and from this….oollajong…isn’t this going to eat up time you need for studying on weekends?”

“I read four chapters of my Modern History textbook last Sunday when I went. I don’t see how that’s going to be a problem. In fact, I’m away from distractions, it’s the perfect opportunity to get work down without interruptions.”

His father looked at his mother. They both sighed at the same time.

“Well good luck then,” his father shrugged.

“Yes, good luck my darling,” his mother cooed, bending down and petting his cheek. “As long as this is for your future…”

“It is Mum, everything I do is for my future.”

“That’s what makes you his son,” she smiled, gesturing his father.

“I just want both of you to be proud of me,” Hanbin said, “and I feel like this project is going going to be make sure that happens.”

“We’re already proud of you,” his father insisted calmly, “but I’d be even happier with you if you went to bed. It’s already 11:30pm.

**Author's Note:**

> * Please note Joollajong-ri does not exist, it is a village that I made up for the purpose of this story.


End file.
